


So true a fool is love

by DemiCy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But Barely Any Plot, FE3H Kinkmeme, Finger Sucking, M/M, Mentioned Ignatz Victor, Mentioned My Unit | Byleth, Poetry, Porn With Plot, So Much Drool, drool, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiCy/pseuds/DemiCy
Summary: Frankly, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester would rather die than allow anyone to read his poetry.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	So true a fool is love

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic in literal years. Please enjoy this Claurenz mess.
> 
> Written for a FE3H Kinkmeme prompt:  
> We know canonically that Lorenz uses poetry to cope with difficult feelings. So what if some of those feelings were how desperately he wants his leader to fuck him? He writes Shakespeare style sophisticated but dirty as hell poems about how he’d like to ride Claude like one of his warhorses. How he wants them to fuck like in Seteth’s banned books. How he wants to suck on Claude like sticky candy. How...you get the idea. The Mayo Man has it bad.
> 
> Then somehow he misplaces the poetry and some well meaning soul (the Gatekeeper?) mistakes it for a love letter and delivers it to Claude. And Lorenz just wants to dIE...until Claude comes over and offers to make those fantasies reality.
> 
> Title is part of a line from Shakespeare's Sonnet #57.

> _O, how the thought of your flesh upon mine,_
> 
> _Sends a shudder to the depths of my soul._
> 
> _An archer’s fingers never felt so fine,_
> 
> _Clasped ‘round-_

Lorenz paused, studying the words he had just written. No, that wouldn’t do at all. It needed to _flow_ , needed to fit the meter. The nobleman furiously scratched out the words, the hint of a scowl upon his lips. He tapped his finger impatiently, mentally grasping at the words that would perfectly encapsulate the dreaded emotions that had been plaguing his mind as of late.

> _Wrapped tight ‘round this fragile heart you stole._

Poetry had started as something he was only educated in due to his lineage. To partake in and understand the artistry of words was something any noble worth their title would practice. Poetry encouraged the reader to dig deeper, to find the meaning hidden between the lines and dripping in metaphors. If a noble could parse the meaning of flowery poems, then they could read the subtle threats and true intentions of others at the council meetings.

That was the excuse at the beginning, at least. Lorenz found himself always coming back, seeking out more and more until he had devoured every book of poetry in the Gloucester library. It wasn’t enough to read them, though, it never was.

That was when he started writing. They had been simple and flowery at first, as most things are in the beginning. A short poem about a bird twittering away on a tree in the garden. An embarrassing attempt at a haiku about the roses he loved so much. Putting lyrics to a short tune he couldn’t get out of his head. Expressing the traces of doubt deep within his heart onto the page.

It became therapeutic, in a way. Perhaps that was why he still wrote such awful poems. He had his own private place to release those worries, seal them away with a few pretty words before folding the papers and tucking them away in a drawer, never to see light again. He made sure to keep them hidden, on the ~~likely~~ chance someone might come snooping around his room.

And, frankly, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester would rather die than allow anyone to read his poetry.

Normally Lorenz wrote poems to deal with his darker and less beautiful thoughts. He wrote about the struggles of nobility. The pressure of his title. Criticisms from his father. Dark and hidden thoughts of failure and loneliness. But there was a more pressing problem currently twisting its way deep into his psyche, possessing every moment with its unwanted presence. Never had something plagued him so horribly, leaving his stomach knotted and bile bubbling up in his throat.

He needed to write some damn poetry or these thoughts were going to send him to an early grave.

> _In the moonlight I surrender to you,_
> 
> _Mounted upon that beckoning steed._
> 
> _Take the reins out of my trembling grasp,_
> 
> _Hold me close as we ride to victory._

The war would be a lot easier if Lorenz didn’t have to sit right across from that dreadful man every single time they had a meeting.

He had respect for Claude von Riegan. That much he was willing to admit. The man proved himself to be a tactical genius on several occasions, both on and off the battlefield. Claude had schemes upon schemes upon schemes, Lorenz having been caught in one or two of the more harmless pranks back when they were just students at the academy.

Even back then Claude had a way of captivating his attention.

Lorenz scowled the moment the thought crossed his mind, focusing on the page in front of him as he began to write furiously. It was disgusting, dare he even say despicable! Claude von Riegan could not – no, _would not_ monopolize his thoughts like this. He had done nothing to earn the hours he spent occupying Lorenz’s head. Him and his stupid, rugged good looks. His stupid, enchanting green eyes that Lorenz would catch himself getting lost in while Claude was addressing everyone. His stupid, lovely voice that Lorenz would dwell on late in the night.

Lorenz Hellman Gloucester had to take care of this in the only way he knew how. Tucked away in his private chambers with ink and paper, writing and scribbling away late into the night.

Lorenz awoke with ink staining his lovely pale fingers.

He sat up quickly from the chair, the awkward position he had fallen asleep in leaving his body sore. The light filtering into his room told him that the sun was already up. Perhaps had already been up for several hours. Which meant that Lorenz was on the brink of running late for today’s war council.

The Goddess must have it out for him today.

He quickly got to his feet, trying to get himself clean and presentable for the meeting he would already be late for. Lorenz brushed through his hair, did a quick check of all the buttons and clasps of his attire, and gathered up the papers at his desk before he headed out the door. He had no intention of running the entire way, that would be unbecoming of a man of his status. He did, however, walk a bit more briskly than usual and take the stairs two at a time.

“Well, if it isn’t Lorenz! Finally decide to grace us with your noble presence?”

Claude’s voice filled the Cardinals room, turning all eyes towards the purple haired man. Lorenz had wanted to be subtle in his entry, hoping to slip in unnoticed and take his seat without raising too many brows.

Claude seemed to have something else in mind.

Lorenz quickly straightened his posture, striding over to take his seat with the air of poise he had mastered well over a decade ago. Lorenz gave a small, dismissive wave of his hand, laying out the papers in front of him.

“I do hope you all will pardon my tardiness. Please, do not delay any longer on my account.”

A few looks were exchanged, Claude leaning back in his chair with the hint of a smirk. Lorenz resisted the powerful urge to scowl. He could not let Claude have too many victories over him, especially when the meeting was only just starting.

Everyone settled back in, turning their attention back to Claude and the Professor to get them started. Lorenz took the time to organize the papers he had brought along with him. He had grabbed whatever he could from his desk on his way out the door, not giving any thought to what exactly he had brought with him.

There were small smudges of ink on a few of the papers, scratched out words and phrases boldly staring back at him.

> _Oh, how the thought of your flesh upon mine,_
> 
> _Sends a shudder to the depths of my soul._

Lorenz wanted nothing more than for the Goddess to strike him down then and there.

Byleth’s voice sounded distant to his ears, Lorenz much more preoccupied with the damnable evidence of last night laying on the table in front of him. He acted quickly, plucking the page from the rest of the mess and stashing it under the table. His hands worked methodically to fold the paper up, hoping to discreetly tuck it away into his pocket. Lorenz stole a quick glance around. All eyes were on the Professor still, as they should be.

All except for the charming pair of forest green, right across the table from him.

Claude quirked a brow when their eyes met, the subtle pull of a smile enough to tell Lorenz that he had _definitely_ seen him try to hide something. Claude wouldn’t bring attention to it, of course, at least not yet. He had to play with Lorenz just a little, try to figure out if it was anything worth his time.

And the mortified expression Lorenz was trying to hide told Claude everything he needed to know.

It was then that Byleth seemed to turn the floor over to Claude, all eyes on their leader as Claude flashed one of is usual, carefree smiles. Lorenz had escaped his scrutinizing gaze for the time being, at least.

Now they could get down to the business of the war.

Lorenz did his best to listen, truly he did. His eyes never strayed from Claude as discussions of battalions filled the air, matters of who was sending aid and who was providing troops. He listened intently to Claude’s voice each time it occupied the room, his tone warm and casual. His eyes stayed on Claude, but his mind was a separate matter.

Lorenz only let it stray a little. Gaze drifting from those damned eyes of his down a little further, watching each word fall from Claude’s lips. How he smiled so easily. His voice a pleasant little promise for his ears. His mind was only a little distracted with the thought of just how soft those lips of his might be. Just how they would taste. If he were to just-

“Anything to add, Lorenz?”

The nobleman blinked quickly, as if snapping out of a short-lived dream. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, waiting patiently for him to say something. Anything about the matter at hand.

What had they been talking about?

“Not at the moment… I believe you have covered everything.” He tried to pull off a bluff, quietly hoping he didn’t just make a fool of himself.

The playful grin on Claude’s lips did not put his poor heart at ease.

“You heard him, Teach. Nothing else to cover, so let’s call it here. Sound good?” Claude chuckled, turning his gaze back to Byleth. Their professor let out a sigh, giving everyone a quick nod to dismiss the room. That was all Lorenz needed, rising from his chair and gathering up the papers in front of him once more. The secret burning in his pocket needed to be dealt with, and quickly.

Lorenz left without a word to any of the others, his brisk pace raising a few brows along the way back to his room. He didn’t have time to worry or care about appearances, he needed to stash away the evidence before anyone could possibly come knocking.

The papers were unceremoniously dropped onto his desk the moment he entered the room, slamming the doors shut behind him. There was still ink on a few of the pages and on his desk, a mess that Lorenz was going to have to take care of eventually.

But first, the poem.

Lorenz reached into his pocket, fingers clasping around… nothing. He frowned, feeling around frantically in his pocket. Empty. He slipped a hand into his other pocket, clinging to the hope that he had misremembered which pocket it had been put in. Of course, how silly of him, it had to be right…

Nothing.

The poem was gone.

There were only a few places it could have ended up, in retrospect. The hallway outside his room was the first and easiest place to check, Lorenz scanning over the floors of the monastery as though his life depended on it. There was the occasional stray paper, a note that had been dropped or misplaced. No poem.

The courtyards were much of the same. Misplaced and forgotten notes, torn down notices from the bulletin boards, pages that had been torn out of textbooks. Still no poem.

There was one obvious place to check. Truthfully, he should have started his search there, but Lorenz did not want to face the horrific possibility that awaited him when he got there. He dragged his feet a little as he ascended the stairs, walking down the seemingly endless halls towards the one place he did not want it to be. The Cardinals room.

Everyone had drifted out in the hour or two since the meeting, leaving the room utterly empty for Lorenz to search. He wandered over to his chair, each step heavier than the last as he knew what he was bound to find. The table was barren, no trace of any papers or notes left behind. The floor was in an equally bare state. It was as if someone had taken great care to clear the room of any and all traces of their meeting – which, given a moment to think, was a smart move to make. They didn’t need anyone picking up their battle strategies and handing them over to the Empire.

And so, it was gone. His horrific poem now floating around somewhere in the monastery, in someone else’s hands.

Lorenz could feel the shame creeping into his heart. Whoever had it could certainly use it against him. Easily make him the laughingstock of the monastery. _Look at what Lorenz Hellman Gloucester wrote!_

He made his solemn return to his quarters, the tight grip of dread in his stomach driving away any appetite he may have had. Forget poetry, he may as well take up writing his will or a eulogy for the humiliation awaiting him. Lorenz opened the door to his room, dragging himself inside with the intent to collapse on his bed and have a moment to mourn the loss of his dignity.

He would have, at least, if Claude von Riegan were not sitting right on his bed.

“What-?! Claude, what in Fodlan are you _doing_ in my _chambers_!?”

Claude didn’t pay any attention to Lorenz’s shout, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. He took his time in unfolding it, holding it up in front of his face.

“Claude –

> _Oh, how the thought of your flesh upon mine,_
> 
> _Sends a shudder to the depths of my soul._
> 
> _An archer’s touch has never felt so fine,_
> 
> _wrapped tight ‘round this fragile heart you stole. “_

No. No no no _no._

> _“In the moonlight I surrender to you,_
> 
> _Mounted upon that beckoning steed._
> 
> _Take the reins out of my trembling grasp,_
> 
> _Hold me close as we ride to victory.”_

This had to be Hell. Lorenz was in Hell.

> _“Thy lips only know temptations, so sweet –_
> 
> _Oh! Please grant me but a taste of paradise,_
> 
> _Taint me with your poisonous deceit,_
> 
> _your bed the altar for my sacrifice._
> 
> _And should the Goddess forsake our deeds,_
> 
> _Your name is the only prayer my tongue needs.”_

Claude lowered the paper once he finished, eyes falling upon Lorenz.

This was his worst fears come to fruition, a living nightmare that he had to endure. Lorenz could only stand there, face painted in horror and shame. He was burning bright pink, from the tips of his ears down his slender neck. He wanted to run, to find one of the many secret places in the monastery and hide away for the rest of his life. Abyss wasn’t deep enough or secret enough, he needed to run away somewhere where he could never be found again, never have to face another human being for as long as he dared to live. He needed to-

“You’re pretty good at this, Lorenz. Never had anyone write anything about me, let alone write poetry.”

Claude’s words cut through Lorenz’s thoughts, stopping him in his tracks. A smile graced Claude’s lips again, surprisingly gentle as he gestured for Lorenz to come over and join him on the bed.

Lorenz wasn’t sure what made him comply. Perhaps it was that he had nothing more to lose. He walked over, sinking down to sit on the bed beside Claude. He was avoiding looking at him, not wanting to stare at that smug smirk on his lips, that victorious glint in his eye.

Claude looked him over, raising a brow slightly as he regarded Lorenz.

“Lookin’ rather glum for a guy that just sent a love letter. I figured something was up when you were trying to hide this during the meeting and ran out of there, but I never expected you to get Ignatz to hand deliver your little love note straight to me.”

Ah, so that was who he had to blame for his utter defeat. Sweet Ignatz, surely he had meant no harm with his actions. The unknown assassin dealing the deadly blow, bringing about Lorenz’s fall from grace.

Wait.

“Love letter? You thought I was- that I-?!” Lorenz was scrambling for what to say. That was not at all what that was! It was merely an expression of his deepest, most dreaded of feelings, the things that he could never voice, it was-

… it could definitely be read as a love letter.

“Are you saying you don’t want to do any of that stuff you wrote about so eloquently? Don’t want your little _taste of paradise_?” Claude teased, sitting up a little straighter. He shifted, slowly starting to get up from the bed. “Alright, if you insist. But you know where my room is, if you’re looking for that bed you want so badly.” He tossed a wink back at the flustered man still sitting on the bed, heading straight for the door without another look back.

“I… You…”

Claude kept on walking, hand on the handle of the door.

“Claude.”

He paused, grin slowly spreading on his lips.

“Yeah, Lorenz?”

“I… never said that I was… entirely against such things.” Lorenz mumbled the words, cheeks burning brighter.

“Well then, sounds like you should come follow me.” Claude pulled the doors open, stepping out into the hall. Lorenz got up with a start, hesitating on his feet. He needed to compose himself, he was going to go mad if he let Claude continue to yank him around and tease him like this. He took a deep breath, standing a little taller before he walked right out, following Claude the short distance to his quarters.

Claude opened the door, stepping aside and gesturing for Lorenz to go in ahead of him.

“Your altar awaits.”

Lorenz’s blush returned full force, trying to hide it in vain with the cover of his hand. He hurried into the room, the sound of the door closing behind him and the soft click of the lock making his heart leap into his throat.

Claude was beside him in an instant, sending a small shock through his body just by placing a hand on Lorenz’s slim waist.

“Planning to stand here the whole time?” His words were still playful, but they were softer. Trying to encourage Lorenz while putting his pounding heart at ease. Lorenz was still recovering from the shock of getting this far, Claude’s hands on him. His body so close to his. His face just a few inches away.

“Of course not! I was only getting my bearings for a moment. It is not as if I-“ Lorenz was promptly cut off, Claude stopping him in his tracks with a quick kiss on the lips. The moment was over in a flash, and yet it was everything Lorenz had wanted.

And he absolutely wanted more.

Claude pulled away, a grin tugging at his lips when Lorenz went silent. What he hadn’t counted on was for the nobleman to quickly move back in, stealing a kiss of his own. His kiss was eager, needy in a way he never thought he could be. He wanted- no no, _needed_ more of Claude, needed the soft touch of his lips. The hand on Lorenz’s waist tugged him closer, trying to keep them connected for as long as they could manage, before sliding over the rest of his frame. Claude’s hands wanted to explore every inch of him.

Claude pressed further, deepening the kiss they shared. Lorenz’s eyes had already fluttered closed, as if looking at Claude like this would be too much for him. Claude’s tongue slid over his lower lip, and Lorenz nearly died of embarrassment over the moan that escaped him. Finally, Lorenz pulled back, taking a moment to catch his breath. Claude instead pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling against him.

“Lorenz, would you mind lifting your arms for a sec?”

Lorenz looked a little confused, slowly lifting his arms to comply. In a blink Claude had Lorenz stripped, bare from his neck down to his waist.

“I am perfectly capable of undressing myself, you know.” Lorenz let out a half-hearted huff, the frown on his lips not reaching his eyes.

“Then please, feel free to finish the job.” Claude commented, head tilted up to press a kiss against Lorenz’s now exposed neck. His hands moved to his pants, fingers fumbling as Claude continued his underhanded tactics. Pressing kiss after kiss along his neck and collarbone, lips parting just enough to tease him with the occasional lick. Just as Lorenz undid the laces, he felt teeth sink into his flesh. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to send a shudder down his back.

Lorenz’s whimper was music to Claude’s ears, kissing and licking the tender spot at the other’s collarbone. He traced his fingers down Lorenz’s spine, feeling him shiver from the sensation. Claude slowly pulled his lips away from his skin, taking the pale noble’s hand and gently guiding him onto the bed.

Lorenz eased himself down, sitting close to the edge while Claude stood over him. He finally took the opportunity to undress himself, tossing aside his clothes without much care for where they landed, tugging open his pants with one hand while he moved to join Lorenz on the bed. A hand against his stomach stopped him, keeping Claude in place while Lorenz took his time to drink in every inch of the man in front of him.

He was beautiful. A work of art, truly. Lorenz wanted to trace his fingers over every subtle curve, feel every line of muscle. He wanted to memorize as much of Claude as he could, while he had the chance.

Claude let him linger for a moment, indulging him just a little. But even he could only be so patient, and with Lorenz’s face hovering so close, the temptation was getting to be too much. Claude pushed down his pants and smallclothes, his dick falling free in front of Lorenz’s face.

It was hard to believe Lorenz could blush any brighter.

He stared, realizing a moment too late that his jaw had dropped at some point. He snapped his mouth shut, swallowing hard as he nervously twirled a finger in his long hair.

“If I may be so forward. I, ah… may I…”

“Hmm? Didn’t quite catch that.”

“May I ask your permission to, err, have a… small taste.”

“Lorenz.” Claude lifted a hand to cover his mouth, likely to stifle a laugh and hide the ridiculous grin on his face. “You don’t need to ask to suck my cock.”

He felt a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over him. Between Claude’s blunt and crude words and the close proximity of said cock to his face, Lorenz was starting to feel flustered. There were many things he wanted to do, so very many thoughts rushing through his head. His cheeks were burning hot, flurry of thought after thought after thought starting to make him dizzy.

And then he felt Claude’s hand on top of his head, bringing him back into the present.

“Hey, it’s okay. Take it slow.” He spoke evenly, trying to soothe the obviously overwhelmed man still inches from his dick. Lorenz nodded slowly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. No need to make even more of a fool of himself in front of Claude.

Lorenz lifted his hand, delicate fingers wrapping around Claude’s half-hard length. He swallowed hard, giving him a few strokes to get a better feel for what was in front of him. It was his first-time laying eyes on a dick that wasn’t his own, after all, but he had already taken the time to savor the sight.

Claude let a small moan slip out as Lorenz took him in his mouth. It was all the encouragement Lorenz needed, tongue dragging over the head and barely muffling his own moan. Claude’s hand twitched, his grip on Lorenz’s hair tightening for a moment before he relaxed, decided against whatever thought had crossed his mind.

Lorenz wanted to take his time. He wanted to draw out more noises from Claude, to return all the relentless teasing and torment that had been wrought upon him for years.

But in the end, he couldn’t. Now that Claude’s cock was sliding over his tongue, filling his needy little mouth, Lorenz was finding it harder and harder to keep his thoughts focused. He pushed himself forward, until Claude was pressing at his throat and nearly choking him. The rich moan Lorenz let out made both of them shiver, the pleasure going straight to the nobleman’s dick.

Claude curled his fingers in Lorenz’s soft purple locks, enjoying the sight before him. Proud and pompous Lorenz, lips wrapped around his cock and moaning for more, so close to taking every inch of him. Claude gave his hair a small tug, pulling him down those last few inches. It was enough to make him choke, eyes rolling back as Lorenz made no attempt to pull back. On the contrary, he wanted to keep sucking on that heavenly cock for as long as he could.

Lorenz gasped once Claude pulled him back, his mouth left empty and longing. Had he been more aware, perhaps he would have noticed the strands of saliva dribbling down his chin. There was a peek of his tongue, poking out just past his lips as the poor man tried to catch his breath.

Claude moved himself onto the bed, hand sliding from Lorenz’s hair to cup his chin, thumb giving his cheek a few affectionate strokes. He didn’t say anything, knew he didn’t need to say a word. Claude guided Lorenz in closer to him, capturing his lips in another kiss. Lorenz eagerly returned it, tongues meeting and teasing one another. Claude kept one hand on Lorenz’s tinted cheek, the other sliding down his bare back, brushing against the hem of his loose pants. A small push was all it took to slide Lorenz’s pants down, his smallclothes quick to follow. Lorenz could only think about those fingers sliding over the curve of his ass, trailing over his hip, until finally-

“Oh! C-Claude!” Lorenz yelped as Claude wrapped his hand around his dick, stroking quickly to make the man over him whine and squirm. He was so hard already, drops of pre leaking from the tip as he bit down hard on his lip. Claude hummed absentmindedly, continuing his quick pace and drinking in the sight of Lorenz whimpering over him. Desperate for Claude to give him everything he needed.

And Claude would happily oblige, if only to hear Lorenz screaming his name.

“Lorenz.” Claude wanted his attention, demanded those eyes be on him. Lorenz met his intense gaze, trying to suppress another whine from escaping his throat. Claude placed his thumb on Lorenz’s lips, giving the softest nudge he could. Lorenz swallowed, parting his lips and letting Claude open his mouth, thumb teasing still at his lower lip.

“That’s it, just like that.” Claude cooed, fingers brushing over his cheek. He slipped two fingers into Lorenz’s warm mouth, feeling his tongue lap and lick at the digits. Whether it was his fingers or his cock, Lorenz seemed to be happy to have something in his mouth to drool all over. Claude slowly thrust his fingers, working in time with his hand still stroking at the nobleman’s throbbing cock. Each motion had another small dribble of spit leaking from Lorenz’s lips, the mess coating his chin. Lorenz moaned and sucked, hips jerking and rocking into his strokes, desperately seeking his climax.

And then Claude let go, pulling both of his hands away from Lorenz. He was left panting and trembling, the desperate look in his eyes begging for Claude to keep going.

“Not yet. Didn’t you want to go for a ride?” Claude winked at him, hands rubbing up and down Lorenz’s back to try and bring him back down. “Have to get you ready first.”

The gentle press of a spit-soaked finger made Lorenz yelp, cheeks burning as he knew what was to come. That finger took its time, circling around his entrance and giving him small pushes. Nearly slipping inside, but never fully. And just as Lorenz was about to voice his complaint, tell Claude to get on with it already and open him up-

Lorenz heard a soft ‘pop’ of a bottle being uncorked behind him, looking back with confusion plain on his face.

“When did you-? _Where_ did you-?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” He purred, sneaking in a quick kiss on Lorenz’s shoulder.

Claude carefully poured some of the oil on his fingers, rubbing again at his entrance. Lorenz shuddered, shocked by his own loud moan as that slick finger finally, finally pushed inside of him. Claude didn’t bother to hide his smirk, peppering a few kisses across any inch of Lorenz’s exposed skin he could reach. His finger moved inside his ass, a second joining it and making Lorenz jolt and buck his hips. Claude tried to occupy the sweetly moaning noble, the hand still holding the small vial pouring some over Claude’s own cock, guiding Lorenz’s own soft hand into stroking him. Lorenz was a bit clumsy in his stroking, his hand stuttering to a stop when Claude dared to spread his fingers _inside_ of him.

“Ah, Claude! Claude _please_!”

A breathy chuckle left him, fingers taking their agonizing time in pulling out of Lorenz. Claude gave him a soft pat on the ass, trying to get him to move.

“Anything for you, Lor.” Claude got himself comfortable, laying back on the bed and propped up by his forearms with the pillow under him. Lorenz was straddled over him, feeling incredibly exposed with his dick standing tall and hard and in plain sight. He softly bit his lip, reaching back to properly spread and line himself up.

“Easy, Lor, no need to rush.” And there Claude was, reassuring him. He shifted a little, moving his arm so he could rest a hand on the small curve of Lorenz’s hip. With his hand there to steady and guide him, Lorenz eased himself down on to Claude’s dick.

He could feel himself being spread open, eager moan leaving his lips. It was new, and it hurt, but _Goddess_ he had never felt so good. Lorenz needed Claude to fill him up, let him move his hips and moan and scream and feel Claude’s length buried into him again and again.

But he waited, waited in agony as he slowly seated himself on top of Claude. Lorenz had to force himself to keep still, Claude’s hand keeping him steady as he got used to just how full he felt. A few shaky breaths later, Lorenz’s hands resting on Claude’s chest, he was finally ready.

Lorenz was going to ride this man if it was the last damned thing he ever did.

He was smart enough to start slow. Building up a rhythm of rocking his hips, lifting them slowly before sliding them right back down. Claude would occasionally squeeze his hip, focusing on keeping his breath steady and stopping himself from giving away too much. Claude could not let Lorenz think he had the upper hand here, especially while Claude had him so beautifully exposed over him. Claude’s encouragement and praise came in breathy moans, a few mumbles of “that’s it” and “just like that, Lor.”

Lorenz, on the other hand, couldn’t keep himself quiet. Every motion of his hips was punctuated with a moan, cutely crying out and back arching any time he pushed himself down a little harder than before, rode him just a little faster.

“C-come on, Lor, you can do better than that.” Claude growled out, surprisingly the poor man as both hands gripped his hips tightly. Lorenz cried out as Claude pulled him down harshly, bodies colliding together and leaving both of them panting and throbbing. It was time for Claude to take the reins, fingers digging into Lorenz’s soft flesh as he started to thrust up into him.

“Oh, Claude! Oh, f- _fuck_ …” Lorenz desperately grasped at Claude, his shouts rising over the slap of their hips. It was so incredibly vulgar, but Lorenz wanted nothing more than Claude to take him like this. He wanted to be ravaged, ruined, completely and utterly broken by this man that had stolen his heart all those years ago. His dick was twitching, slapping up against him with each hard thrust from Claude. Lorenz wasn’t sure he could contain himself much longer.

Claude slammed him down again, one hand releasing it’s grip on his hip. Instead Claude twisted his fingers in those long purple locks, yanking Lorenz’s face down to make the man meet his gaze. Lorenz was panting again, tongue lolling out just past his lips. There’s a small dusting of tears on his lashes, eyes practically burning with how much he needs this. Needs Claude.

Claude pulled Lorenz’s face down to his, lips colliding in a rough and messy kiss that steals the air from Lorenz’s lungs. He jolts, body twitching as hands cling to any part of Claude he can, holding on for dear life as Lorenz finds release, falling over the edge in a burst of white.

The thrust of Claude’s hips seem more erratic now, especially with Lorenz tightening so wonderfully around him. He broke away from the kiss, drank in the beautifully fucked-out face Lorenz was treating him to as Claude kept moving. Lorenz practically wails as Claude buries himself deep, almost missing the breathless _fuck, Lor_ that falls from Claude’s lips as he came.

Lorenz doesn’t have the strength to budge, collapsed in a messy heap on top of Claude. His eyes had closed at some point, body comfortably warm and numb and still so pleasantly full. Claude tries to shift him, carefully moving Lorenz’s hips and sliding out of his ass, despite the whine of protest. Claude eases Lorenz down to lay beside him, fingers tracing idle circles all over his delightfully warm skin.

Lorenz nuzzled into his side, slowly returning from his paradise in the heavens and back into his warm, slightly sticky body. Back into the present, where it was only him and Claude.

“Do you have any others?” Claude finally breaks the silence, fingers combing through soft purple hair as he waits for a response.

“Hmm? Others…?”

“Poems.” Claude answers quickly, hand brushing over Lorenz’s cheek. “I’d like to have a look at them sometime.”

It was not what Lorenz had been expecting. But since when was Claude predictable?

“Yes, of course. I can… show them to you sometime.” He glanced away from Claude, starting to think over everything he had been writing for the last few days. Months. Years.

“But first, I am in desperate need of a bath.”


End file.
